The Louisiana Democrat., 1887-01-19
HENRY L. BIOSSiT, Business Manae

me to buy, assuring me again that they
were very poor; they wanted to get
some breakfast, they said.
"And have you had no breakfast
yet?n / asked, for it was now past
twelve o'clock.
"Sehr wenig,'' they said; very little.
The mother could not give them any
any this morning; she must go to the
field. The elder seemed, mother-like,
most anxious that the little one should
make sale of her lace, though little
Anna said: "You see hers is nicer than
mine, for she is older, you see, and can
make much nicer lace than | can; of
course, my lady, it is better that you
buy hers than mine
l thought of Wordsworth's idyl,
eve are Seven" The beauty of their
kindliness and love for each other in
their poverty, if not Of face or feature,
''made me glad Both were ex-
quisitely clean-face and hands and
hair. This was also neatly combed.
There were no bangs falling over their
foreheads, but every hair was drawn
back and fastened, as though not
stray hair should blind their eyes or
hinder them in their work. We drove
back through this valley, and the sun
had long been out of sight behind the
high western mountains when we
passed their little stall. But both
were there still at work, their little
fingers Hyingno less nimbly than in the
morning when first saw them. They
recognized me and bowed and smiled
gratefully for the poor, small pur-
chase had made of them. / dare say
it was the only sale they had made
during the day. Dear little Swiss lace
makers, in the valley of Lauterbrunnen!
You gave me far more than | did you
in the few francs paid for your lace.
Your lives shall henceforth be Il part
of mine, and the red threads in your
lace will signify to me the life-blood
of two of my little sisters. | am
sure I shall find you again some
where, sometime! 1t was not chance
that led me to your little stall to-
day. Your paths in life crossed mine,
to teach me broader, tenderer hui
manity. | was never so thankful for
my very imperfect understanding and
use of the French and German lam
guages (over which I have spent
months and years of late night and
early morning study. / did not know
why, only that I was irresistibly drawn
to read and know them), as Ihave been
for their help to get at the heart Of
these poor peoples lives-their homes;
to find out how they lived, what sun
shine came into them.
"And how do you live in winter" l
asked of the guide who was leading
my horse through one of these passes
the other day.
go seAr gemuthhch, he replied,
which means both kindly and cheerily,
and he explained to me that the people
in these valleys were very 'JreundlicA
NIT einander," they visited each other a
good deal; in short were "sehr munater'
, gay in the long winters.
"And what do these people live onp'
I asked.
, o, they had potatoes, he said, and the
. vegetables that they raised in summer
and they had their goats, and they had
5 bread-a few had COW. They could
| get wood from the mountains, they
+ made their houses warm, and they LIVED
gaily.
5 "And what do you do all the Ions
g winter when you can not work in thu
fields and when the sun scarcely shines
r on you for months?"
t The women, he said, spun the fla,
t that / saw them spreading and turning
in the fields; they made the lace that
saw them selling; they embroidered tn
{ handkerchiefs I saw in the shops. Th
e men got the wood and they carved tn
+ articles that saw in shops in all Swis
g towns, and that Isaw in all these place
d along the road. They were very indus
: trious, and skilful, and ingenious. Th
g latter traits / could we'll believe the
|, possessed when I saw them with
v sharp-pointed knife alone turn a smal
; block of wood into deer or chamoi
s that really seemed alive and leapin
n from crag to crag of the mountai
V heights.
..Do YOU ever have meat to eat?"
I asked.
n scar klein fetsch," )" was his reply.
h "Ever have coffee or tea to drinkp'
If Nothing of that kind" he said, an
d yet like WORDSWORTH little maid VIII
,e ate her supper on her sisters grave
a she had his way" and insisted thu
st they lived comfortably, though "seh
q arme'-very poor-and were gay dun
II ing the long winters.
IS ''Do the slides of snow-avalanches-
d never come down here?" asked.
+ "Yes, sometimes they did, he sait
,e and he pointed out q place where on
Id fell three years ago, burying a man an
At four children, the mother, was out an
" escaped.
5. "And have the people never war;
,e ing of their fall / further inquired
re $50 that they could escape to safe
er place?"
es "They were more likely to fall
9, the spring. he said, but they nev'
n knew when or just where they woul
to fall. And so they lived on. That the